


London Bridges

by Papillonn



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Romance, Slow Build, daddy!Tom, single parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillonn/pseuds/Papillonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte meets Tom Hiddleston at a park in Louisiana. How will their similarities bring them together and will their differences drive them apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The park

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have lots of different WIP's right now, but I was pretty keen on this idea after writing 'Bean' oneshots and toying with the idea of daddy!tom. Bear with me. I'm a writer with lots of ideas =]

“ _Lola_ ,”

A firm, but gentle voice floated through the air, blending in with the summer greenery and shrieks of laughter coming from all around the park. It was a perfect day to spread out a blanket and eat watermelon, Charlotte Tate thought, and it was the perfect opportunity to drain some of the energy from her three-year-old girl Lola, who’d been actively driving her up the wall lately.

It was proving to be quite the challenge to keep the little girl contained long enough to remove her shoes and prepare her for the main attraction.

“Sprinkles,” cried tiny brunette cried to her mother. Charlie grinned, and snickered. Of course Lola was referring to the massive water fountain they had in the park that attracted heaps of giggling toddlers and their apprehensive older siblings. Today Charlie was worried about the influx of older children, and her little Lo getting trampled by them.

“Just a second, Lo,” she told her, her voice the right mixture of warning and calm to center the child. Big glassy brown eyes looked up at her pleadingly as she carefully tucked their supplies into the oversized bag she carried and finally, she stood to her full height, and held out her hand. Chubby, sticky fingers gripped hers in excitement as the thirty-eight pound child tugged her mother along in hopes of making it there faster. Lola had trust issues with her mother and fun activities after the last time Charlie had dragged her out of the park what seemed to be unreasonably early. Lola’s lungs worked very well, and nearly a dozen onlookers could attest to that.

“Stay where mommy can see you, Lo,” Charlie warned as she found a bench to watch her from.

“Kay!”

Lola sprinted off as fast as her tiny legs could take her. Charlie admired her girl and the thick spray of curls that billowed out in her wake, nearly immediately drenched as she ran head on into the bursts of water coming out of the ground. It was almost impossible not to single out her laugh as she blended in with the other children.

Charlie didn’t realize she’d been smiling like a fool until a male voice cleared their throat with a touch of humor and caught her attention.

“Sorry,” the timbre was deep and warm. Foreign to her neck of the woods, even. She looked up and found a tall stranger towering over her, handsome face lit up with a stupid grin.

Dangling from his hand was a glittery pink Mary Jane shoe.

“I think you may have dropped this,”

Charlie smiled guiltily.

“How did you resist the temptation not to steal it? Glitter _is_ all the rage, you know?”

He chuckled softly. He was _very_ handsome. Sharp features, stubbly chin of auburn hair and a crop of matching curls on his head. What was most breathtaking about the stranger was his matching eyes and how blue they were.

“It was hard not to, actually. Very tempting,” He smiled shortly before sticking out his hand, “I’m Tom,”

“Charlie,” she replied shaking his outstretched hand. “That’s Lola, and she’s partial to her princess shoes,”

Tom’s eyes followed her to the tiny girl running like mad through the water shooting up from the ground.

“She’s very serious about her playtime, isn’t she?” Tom countered, his eyes crinkled in amusement as the little character ran her body out of breath, chugging ahead with stout legs and determined arms.

“She’s a strong headed girl,”

“Mine is just there,” he murmured, his eyes finding his little Bea in the crowd. The toddler was also causing quite a ruckus in the water fountain, her arms flailing every, crying out for her dad to watch.

“She’s a doll,” Charlie smiled. “What’s her name?”

“Beatrice. She's two. Very adamant that I go in there with her, but I think I draw the line at tea parties and learning to braid hair.”

“Welcome to motherhood,” she grinned, “are you…?”

Charlie immediately blushed, feeling that it was probably entirely inappropriate to have made such a blunt implication.

“Yeah, actually. Her mother passed away just a _days_ after—“ the pained expression that crossed over his features was unmistakable.

“ _Shit_ ,” Charlie whispered remorsefully. She immediately scooted over on the bench and made room, “sorry. That was completely inappropriate of me to ask you.”

“No,” he smiled sheepishly, “a lot a people wonder… not many dads out here, are there?”

“I guess not,” she frowned looking out and finding nothing but mother’s. With a quick glance back to Lola, she couldn’t help to allow her eyes to flash to Beatrice as well to make sure she was also still doing well. It was instinct. “How?”

“Car accident, actually. It was her first trip out alone after Bea was born… she was supposed to go to buy a new shoes for a wedding we were going to.” He was wistful, but not bitter, “it was hard. I couldn’t look at Bea for a long time. Now she’s my best girl,”

Charlie smiled, green eyes gentle as she listened to Tom’s story. It made a sadness swell within her to remember lost love, too. Lost love that had translated into a personal hell for her.

Nervously she looked back at the girls.

“What about you?” Tom inquired, leaning back and watching his daughter.

“Do I look like a single parent?” she laughed, trying not to be offended or alarmed. He’s just shared something very intimate with her. Though she was under no obligation to share with him, it was courtesy. “It’s just me and Lo,” she said after a few beats.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be,” it came out sharper than she intended, “are you British?”

He laughed,

“Yes, I am English.”

“What are you doing in Louisiana?”

“Filming a movie, actually.”

Her eyes bulged,

“You’re an _actor_?”

Another peal of laughter and her cheeks felt hot with embarrassment.

“I am.”

Tom blinked, expecting her to recognize him, but after the silence waxed on a few minutes, he almost missed the familiar screech of terror pierce the air. His head whipped around so fast, streaks of different children blurred his vision until he found the one that he was looking for.

He was on his feet before his brain recognized the call for action. Dashing through the flow of water, and carefully weaving through children, he found his Beatrice who’d fallen forward, and gently kneeled in front of her, soaking himself in the process,

“Bea,” he whispered sternly in the process, “I told you to be careful, _little one_. Let me see,”

The tiny blue-eyed girl simpered softly, her bottom lip trembling as she cupped her bruised knee. Tom noted the scrape and how a light coating of blood was blooming over the swollen skin. He clucked. Beatrice was a little beauty, but not so very graceful.

“It’s ok, darling. Come on… let’s get you home so we can fix you up,”

He scooped the little girl up and she tucked her tiny face into his neck.

“It stings, daddy!” she sobbed dramatically.

“Shh. I know, my love. Don’t worry. We’re going to find a nice pink plaster to put over it and then we’ll have some more of that strawberry ice cream!”

“Before supper?”

He grinned and kissed her forehead,

“Yes, princess. Before supper,”

Charlie observed Tom his full daddy mode and was astonished at how diligent he was with his little girl. It was strange for her to a see a man in that role and there was something enchanting about the cool concern and tender love that he showed to the little girl, easily soothing the distress, that Charlie knew from first hand experience, was often difficult to do.

He came back to the bench that he’d sat with her on only moments before, his clothing wet and his daughter still whimpering in his arms.

“I’m sorry to cut this short. I was enjoying our conversation,” he said remorsefully. “Perhaps we could have coffee?”

“Uh… sure, yeah. Maybe we could get the girls together for a play date. Lo is always down for some play time.”

He chuckled.

“That would be lovely. I’ll give you my number so you can text me yours… my hands are a little full at the moment,”

She dug her phone from the bag, and tilted her eyes up to Lo again, relieved that she was still jumping around like a mad woman unhinged, and then proceeded to take down the number that Tom provided her with. Her thumbs flew across the keyboard and she sent a quick text to his phone.

“Right. Well, Charlie, it was a pleasure to meet you… I’ll look forward to the coffee and play date.”

“For the girls,” she said with a tease on the tip of her tongue,

“For the girls,” he agreed chuckling.

She gave him a little wave, and then he was off toward the parking lot.

“She’s pretty, Bea,” Tom murmured to his daughter as he settled her groggy form into the car seat, and inspected her knee. Luckily it was so swollen that it didn’t bleed much. He shuffled through the glove department in the front and found a napkin, quickly unscrewing a bottle of water in the cup holder, and wetting the tissue. “Daddy’s just going to clean this up a bit, my love.”

She winced and wailed, just the way he expected her to while he cleaned up the small bit of blood.

“There!” he spoke animatedly, “all done,”

“Ice cream?”

“When we get home, my love.”

He kissed her temple and made sure she was secure before climbing into the driver’s seat. He started the car and fastened his seatbelt and then dug his phone out of his pocket.

The screen was illuminated with a single text.

‘Charlie & Lo.’

A small smile touched his mouth and stayed put all the way home.

Charlie and Lo.

 


	2. A date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is shorter than what I usually do. It's fluffy. Enjoy the fluff.

The house was very impersonal to Tom and he hated that most. He wanted Beatrice to have stability, and the temporary flat he shared with her while he filmed on location was not _stability_. Yes, they’d travelled with her favorite cuddly bears, and in the closet her lovely princess frocks dangled from baby hangers, but it wasn’t the same as their home in London. He’d moved when Anna died. He couldn’t stand being in their townhouse any longer. They’d planned on moving once the baby was born and had even looked at houses that were a little past the booming center of the city. They’d wanted Beatrice to have as normal a life as possible.

He’d found a house not far from the city and he’d worked hard to convert it into a home that made him feel warm. He wanted to raise his daughter in a place that they both loved. It wasn’t massive or cramped. But right now it was incredibly _missed_.

“Where is my pony?” Beatrice demanded, throwing her small body at her father’s feet and pounding her fists into the carpeted floor. He sighed and rolled his eyes at his little one’s deplorable behavior. He never imagined that his daughter would ever throw tantrums. He’d scoffed at the idea when his mother had mentioned to him the terrible two’s. Right now, though, he was eating his words as the white haired girl demanded a pony that was further away than her brain could comprehend.

“Bea, it’s time for bed, sweetheart,” he said sternly. This earned a crescendo of fake tears, and banging. He set his jaw, determined to avoid spoiling his child, and picked her up. She wore a pair of pajamas with built in ballet shoes at the feet, and pink fabric resembling a tutu at her waist. She was adorable, even in the midst of her meltdown.

On his way to her room, he pick up her ‘jack-jack’, a tiny plush bunny that she’d dragged around since she was able to hold things. The bunny had seen better days, and Tom was being to worry that it would all apart at the seams, and Beatrice would follow suit.

“Mine!” Beatrice screamed reaching out for the doll, making sure to glare at her father.

He handled her jack-jack, continuing to ignore her fit, knowing that a reaction was exactly what she was seeking. He nudged the door to her bedroom open with his bare foot, and walked across the carpeted floor until he reached the small bed pushed against the corner of the wall. Her favorite blankie had been freshly laundered, and smelled like lavender soap. He laid her down, despite her glare, and kissed her cheek softly.

“I love you, darling.”

Little hands grasped his neck, and the anger that Beatrice had been hanging onto melted away. He knew he shouldn’t, because she would become attached to the feeling and never want to sleep alone, but after a particularly rough day abroad, he couldn’t help himself but give in. He crawled carefully into her bed and she cuddled him closely making his heart melt.

He reached out a long arm and tugged a book that had been resting on her night table, and brushed his thumbs against the worn cover. It was Cinderella and well loved by his little girl.

“Ready?”

She nodded, thumb stuck inside of her mouth preventing audible words from coming out.

“Once upon a time…”

______________________________________________________________

 

Charlie raked a hand through her hair and let out a deep sigh of relief as she made it through ten minutes of blissful silence without Lo waking up and screaming her head-off about the darkness of her room. When she’d developed that particular fear, Charlie didn’t know, but it had been making nights a lot more difficult that necessary.

A hard wince crossed her features as she heard the familiar ding from her phone sounded through her apartment. She held her breath, praying that all of her hard work in putting Lola to bed wouldn’t have been in vain. She loved her daughter, but these few hours when she rested were some of the most blissful moments of the day.

Quickly digging through her bag, she found an unknown number and slid the lock out of place, the message on the screen making her smile.

‘It’s Tom. Can I call?’

Nervousness buzzed through her. Tom was incredibly attractive. He had a beautiful daughter, and presumably, a stable career. He was the type of man that she had difficulty believing that she and Lola deserved—well, _her_ at least.

She shook her head as if to ward off the bad thoughts, and quickly typed out a response,

‘Sure.’

Dinner had been spaghetti and Lola’s placemat illustrated that perfectly. Mashed up pieces of broccoli lingered, and Charlie tried not to cringe as she scraped it off with a wet wipe in attempts to clean and take her mind off of the impending call.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Tom called just then, the familiar tune being cut short as Charlie answered straight away,

“That was fast,” his warm chuckle made her stomach feel a little gooey.

“Sorry… I didn’t want to wake Lo. She’s a nightmare to put down and even worse to put _back_ down,”

He sighed,

“Same. Tonight was the continuing saga of a lost pony. Christ, is it normal to want to throttle and cuddle them at the same time?”

Charlie smiled at the image in her head of the lanky man having a 2-year-old fuss at him over a missing toy.

“Perfectly. You’re pretty brave, you know. Not many guys have the guts to raise a little girl.”

“I’m sure it’s difficult for you as well, Charlie. Mother’s don’t have a magic wand, either.”

She tossed the rag into the trashcan and started to straighten the spices lying on the counter-top back into their respective places in the cupboard.

“That’s true. But we know about girly stuff. Wait until Beatrice starts to love clothing more than ponies, and the cooties phase is over and boys become _cute_.”

“Fuck,” he cursed softly, “are you trying to give me nightmares, Charlie?”

Her giggle was a bit too loud and she quickly hushed, not wanting to wake Lola.

“The facts, Tom. Tell me a little about this movie…”

Time had quickly gotten away from the both of them. Charlie found that Tom was very amusing to chat with, and it was easy to talk to him about anything to that came to mind. He told her about the movie, and his and Bea’s temporary lodgings. He told her about how much he missed home, and that London was perfect this time during the year. In return he asked her about her life trying to learn more about her. He listened and was genuine when he asked her questions about herself and Lola. She was surprisingly candid.

Near the end of the call, he asked, very shyly, if he could take her out for a meal. For a moment, he was back to being the single man trying to score a date with a beautiful woman. He forgot about all of their responsibilities as single parents.

“….total _tit_!” he laughed apologetically, “let me cook dinner for you and the girls instead… that way we won’t have to worry about sitters or anything…”

A soft smile formed at her mouth.

“That sounds pretty perfect, actually.”

“Wonderful!” Tom enthusiasm made her chuckle. “The rest of the week is pretty bad with the film schedule, but how about Tuesday?”

“We’re good for Tuesday.”

“Great,”

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“I’m excited for Tuesday,”

Soft laughter drifted through the phone receiver,

“Me too, darling.”

“It’s a date.”

“ _Definitely_ a date,”

That night Charlie went to sleep with a stupid grin plastered on her face.

 


End file.
